It has been a wild year, just like our little Isobel. 


She's wild in a beautifully wild kind of a way. She loves to be outside - as a newborn she would lay under the maple tree in our garden and babble up at the sun dappled leaves moving in the wind. Within a few months of her being here we had already named the tree 'Isobel's tree'. This evening, she sat for a full 45 mins having a complicated discussion with her tree, she called it Daddy at least 10 times (err..sorry Nick). When the wind blows in her face she gasps like I've never seen, then she looks at you, eyes alight and laughs. She's always mucky, she loves to be mucky, smooshing her little hands in the mud and padding herself down likes she's applying camouflage. And then there is her hair, that was wild from day one. No one believes I wasn't applying hairspray to that display, but I wasn't. It was just some sort of bittersweet harmony at play with our hair role reversal.


The first morning I spent with Isobel, I recall cradling her in my arms alone, marveling at her pink squidgy face and thinking that together we could do anything, so immensely happy.
She has that effect on people. I see it in Evie too; since Isobel's arrival, our shy sweetheart Evie has begun opening up - when we're out together the first thing she does is introduce Isobel. When I drop Evie into daycare with Isobel at my side, Evie proudly flaunts her sister to her classmates and interferes if any brave soul should put a toddler step too close, placing a protective hand on Isobel's shoulder. 


She doesn't know it yet, but Isobel has brought so much love and wonderfulness with her into the world. So much so that I can honestly say that this past year, having her here with our family, has made it the best year of my life. 

Happy Birthday to our loving little wild thing.

Here's Isobel in her natural environment...

Evie woke me up yesterday, firstly by shouting 'MMMMMMuuummmmmmmyyy, Muuuummmmyy, Babbbbiiieees sleeping, you're too noisy'(I was asleep and definitely not noisy), followed by telling me, 'It's Mother's Day, you have cards'. It's pretty heart melting that she remembered and the fact I'm here to enjoy it is AWESOME. It's the first Mother's Day where she is beginning to understand the concept. Perhaps that's a bit generous - I think she understands it's a day where mummy gets flowers, kisses and cards. Almost had a Freudian slip and wrote carbs. Those too.  I'm happy with all of those. 

I never really would've hedged bets on whether I would be a mother; being that I had the wander-lust bug, wanted to live in far flung places and never felt that 'OMG, look at that baby feeling' (until I had babies, now I'm always cooing over them). Honestly, I wasn't sure if I would be a good mother. My Mum has the patience of a saint; is soft, gentle, selfless and loving. At the same time a stern word and look from her could have us scurry away. Through the eyes of my young self she handled motherhood so gracefully and effortlessly. 

Most days I am mainly a climbing frame, slobber cloth, snack dispenser, personal servant and household referee. Anything but graceful and most definitely not effortless. However I see little bits of my mum in me - I save Evie the last cookie, make sure both have clothes and shoes that somewhat fit (Evie's trousers were on inside out for most of the day but hey, she put them on all by herself) and I love them. I mean I really love them, I never knew how much I could love something. It's like your heart is no-longer safely cushioned inside, but perilously bouncing around in front of you in the form of a cutest thing you've ever seen, all exposed to the elements. It's very worrisome and yet, so beautiful to see. 

Their happy faces, caked in food and mud and goodness knows what, makes me feel complete. After a long day, a little hand on my face and smile filled with unconditional love is so overwhelming. Yesterday, Evie and I watched the Gruffalo movie. During the ads, the ABC song came on and Evie sat bolt upright, a sparkle came into her eyes and she belted out the song. I could see Nick smiling at her and then he looked over at me and I couldn't hold back the tears. Happy tears, I was just so amazed at this little human next to me, growing up. When the song finished I regained composure but Evie still learned over and gave me a soft little kiss before returning her focus to the Gruffalo. I think Isobel may have been chewing on my trouser leg during this whole episode, she's like a little puppy, clambering at your feet with big doe eyes. 

I love being a mother; it's not easy, in fact it is so much harder than I imagined but all they ask of you is that you love them and I can do that. I'm so lucky to be a mum to Evie and Isobel. 

I'm also lucky that Nick made sure I had a loved up day. He even cooked steak, with spinach blue cheese and walnut salad and grilled mushrooms. I mean, wow, what more could a girl want. 

Happy Mother's Day to All

Here's the commercial Evie loves and gets me sobbing along with a picture Evie drew of me for Mother's Day....

Hello there!

My lack of presence on my webpage is because I’ve been busy breaking out of my cancer cocoon.  Probably not the best analogy to use, at least in a physically metaphorical sense, as I went into my cocoon with flowing locks and have emerged looking like a disheveled caterpillar. However, on an emotional level at least, I’d like to think I’m a pretty bold butterfly.  Anyway, caterpillars are still cute aren’t they.

I went into my cancer cocoon for my own sanity.  The first few days post diagnosis I got a little enthusiastic with good old google.  I read through message boards with the same trepidation one has when watching a horror movie; my eyes were hooked to the glowing screen and I just kept scrolling further and further into nail biting misery, imagining myself in every scenario, good and bad.  It wasn’t pretty. I’ve never got the appeal of horror movies.

I wanted to find that balance between being my own self advocate, being knowledgeable on what I was facing whilst also focusing on keeping myself mentally happy and healthy. Although at the time my thoughts weren't that cohesive, all I knew was the more page hopping I did, the worse I felt.  For me, trying to interpret my lab results or join community boards was turning me loony.  I wasn't in a place to give support and wasn't ready to reach out to receive support from the community.

I buried myself in my family, put trust in my medical team and limited my google habit.  I also listened to A LOT of 80’s/90’s i tunes radio (because it’s funky and I’m a dork, you should check it out), spent as much time outdoors as weather permitted (because sunshine makes me crazy happy) and when sunshine failed me I hid away in books with my oatmeal cookie habit (because Evie loves to bake and err, I’m greedy).

I have one extensive booklet on all things Hodgkin from the Lymphoma Research Foundation which was 100 odd pages of solid info written in a reassuringly soft tone which minimized my nail biting.  I allowed myself to use a few trusted resources such as the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) website, American Cancer Society and a few UK gems like McMillan Cancer Support and Cancer Research UK.

I banned myself from message board activity and focused my energy on living in the moment. My 2.5 year old Evie was a brilliant inspiration for this; when she’s happy she shows it, she hums when eating icecream, jumps up and down and runs in circles when we mention the park and then when she’s not happy, let’s just say, she lets you and your ears know it. 

Then during one of my ventures on the LLS website last summer I came across the Light the Night Walk. That was the break in my cocoon. I wrote about it back then, but I found like I had found my people at that walk. It gave me hope, I came away inspired and I realized that maybe I was ready - ready to accept this new side to my identity and explore a little. I’m now getting more involved with LLS, but I will write about that another day because I’m excited about it and I’m rambling as it is.

I recently started to look at support out there for young adult cancer patients and I am impressed.  Moreover I’m not scared of them anymore, I’m inspired.  I went to a cancer conference for women the weekend before last where I was instantly taken aback by a beautiful girl sitting across from me in a sharp tailored jacked, fitted jeans and stunning face. I can honestly say, the fact she had no hair did not register until after her beauty and confidence. She was also lovely. Before leaving she gave me a torn bit of paper with her name and number.  It’s like dating for friends, cancer friends and it leaves you with that warm fuzzy feeling. I texted her within 30 seconds, because life is short and I’m a dork, as you know.  

I then went out with some of the greatest friends and let my hair down (ha-de-ha) with the help of margaritas, blues bars, the Chicago BlackHawks and a Tiki Bar.

Cheers to life outside of my cocoon and to awesome friends and support!